Destiny: Meet Cute
by navnit
Summary: This is a one shot prequel for my Destiny Series explaining how Hawkeye met Laura. It is possible to read this as a stand alone as just a Clint and Laura meet cute but it is written for the series.


_**So I wanted to make this a quick one shot side piece for Destiny Intervenes and the introduction for Laura Barton but it kind of got out of my hand and now is a near 8,000 word monster. I think I did okay though. It can be a stand alone for how Clint met Laura but it is made specifically for my Destiny Series.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

Nurse Laura Miller took the last bite of her caramel slice and washed it down with the rest of her morning coffee. She rubbed her sore neck and straightened her back to get the kinks out.

The hours were torture on her, but a single, not well off, mid twenties woman living in Boston? She had to take on extra shifts to pay her bills. An alert came up on her phone and she groaned at the latest notification that she was late on her tuition fees.

Laura had wanted to be a doctor so bad, to help, to be of use. The problem was that while her marks were up to scratch she didn't really study at a school where lucrative scholarship opportunities presented itself so often. Orphaned at a young age, she really had no choice but to go to the school her foster parents sent her to. And when she graduated, it was safe to say that amazing job offers weren't in a hurry to come knocking on her door.

So she went into Nursing, waitressing to pay for the course. And now she was doing double shifts to pay for her online Medical Degree. Sighing and swiping away the notification she got up making a note mentally to stop by the bank after she clocked off.

Another notification popped up, this time from her floors head nurse. Apparently a VIP patient needed attending. Sometimes it seemed like she never even left her waitressing job, back in college.

Stopping by her locker to drop off her purse she trudged over to the elevator and went up to floor seven to meet Nurse Steene and clock in her hours.

Loaded with the special order for the VIP she sedately walked into the quieter parts of the hospital, the tray clutched in her hand.

As she entered she didn't notice anything amiss. The man who was admitted here refused to give his actual name so they called him Scaramanga . A private joke among the nurses owing to his looking remarkablly like a younger Christopher Lee and also to his debonair nature. Indeed the rumor mill labeled the man as a high standing CIA operative who was injured on mission and was somehow important enough to rescue.

His bed was surrounded by a screen and she could see someone with him, probably his doctor she presumed and went to open the screen to let herself in.

She didn't realise when the tray fell from her hand. Given that she was at the foot of Scaramanga's bed the tray fell on his mattress and partially on his flailing legs. The reason he was flailing, less and less so as time passed, was the metalic fingers clasped around his neck cutting off his air supply.

Her shocked gaze followed those fingers up to a metal hand, arm and shoulder and met a pair of the darkest gray eyes she had ever seen. The chills that travelled down her spine kept her frozen for way too long. Long enough to see the breath leave the man he was choking. Long enough for him to stop flailing and finally suffocate.

It was only on instinct that she moved out of the way of the bullet that was fired at her. Her heart raced as she crouched down being the bed. Somehow some way she managed a rational thought even as she heard the killer move towards her.

Clutching the rail of the screen she pulled it as hard as she could and cheered internally as the screen fell over wrapping the murdered in the sickly green cloth.

Diving for the door and barely managing to clear it even as a shot rang out. This was the day Laura found out that silencers don't really make that sound they make in the movies, it's a lot louder. This was also the day that she got shot.

The bullet didn't hit anything vital, only her shoulder but the pain was blinding. It had been the last part of her body that had been visible in the doorway when she had made her escape and the assassin, despite her tangling him in sheets, managed to get the hit.

Laura stumbled to a stop outside the door barley able to think straight even as she heard him push the screen off him with a loud crash. The pain was too much. She heard measured menacing footsteps close in on her even as she leaned panting against the wall outside the room. Waiting for death.

Only to glimpse something red in her vision. Blinking she pulled her head off the wall she was leaning on she saw the 'Break Glass In Case Of Emergency' box right in front of her. On the wall she was leaning on. Plunging her hand into he pockets only to come up with her phone she never the less aimed the corner of the hard plastic constructed device in the center of the cross and broke the glass. It was a fucking emergency.

She pulled the lever just as he walked out of the room and into the hall. She was five feet in front of him when the alarm went off. Her shoulder bleeding, pure terror in her eyes as she stared death in the face. Of how much she could see of his face anyways.

Laura could see him register the alarm being triggered. The sound of stampeding feet from both sides of the corridor even as he raised his gun to aim right at her head. She was done. It might not have been much of a life but she wanted to live the rest of it. She didn't want to die like this.

But the bullet never came. Those gray eyes never blinked as he holstered his gun and went back into the room. Two minutes later she was stormed with the hospital staff.

* * *

_"Report."_

_"Target Neutralized. Mission Failure."_

_"Explain."_

_"Witness. Brunette. Five foot, three. Name tag identification Laura Miller. Injured but not neutralized."_

_"Why?"_

_"Fire Alarm. Civilians swarmed the building. Critical mission failure. Failed to eliminate, before discovery."_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"Fine. Wipe him and Ice him. Get me the Boston police plants. Make sure that everyone she tells is taken care off. And give Strike Team their target. Laura Miller."_

* * *

Laura had been interviewed five different times and each time her story got weirder and weirder looks. She was tired and cranky and dosed up on painkillers. The upside of being shot in a hospital is getting treatment straight away. That was the only upside.

Finally closing the door to her apartment she slumped against the door and her tremors started. Her fingers trembled as she locked the door with her free hand and walked into the bathroom to take of her bloodied clothes.

Tears blurred her vision though as she finally caught up with the days events. The numbness was fading and she quickly sat down on the toilet seat as the first sob started.

Laura didn't go to work the next day. She had been given leave for the rest of the week so she decided to just process everything for the day.

The flyer on the fridge mocked her. The carnival was in town and she had been looking forward to going. Her parents had always taken her to the carnival whenever it rolled through. Her fondest memories were of her mother beating her dad in the sharpshooting competition and gifting him a large Teddy Bear. Dad had pouted for hours.

Even now, with them gone she still went on the last day just to breathe in the atmosphere and enjoy their memory. But now with her injury and the fact that she was scared to even look out of their window...?

She looked at the flyer for a minute before saying fuck it and stomped out of the apartment. She might be waking up screaming, she might still be trembling, she might be looking every where for those dead gray eyes but she will be damned if this was going to scare her away from the one of the only things in her life that actually made her happy.

So she hailed a cab and made it take her to the Carny.

* * *

_"Target is on the move."_

_"Copy that. Mobile Units four and two shadow but keep your distance."_

_"Copy that, moving out."_

_"Unit nine. Get in bug her place and get out."_

_"Roger that."_

_"Units eight and six. Keep eyes on the building with nine once she's done bugging the place. Don't do anything rash. This has to be done right."_

_"Understood, sir."_

_"Good. Hail Hydra."_

_"Hail Hydra."_

* * *

Clint Barton rarely indulged in his rare off duty days but somehow Coulson had gotten him tickets to the Boston Annual Carnival tour, even providing a Quinjet. Practically forcing him to take a break.

Clint sometimes wanted to pin Coulson to the wall with an arrow but he expected the unflappable handler would simply smile at him and tell him to stop fooling around.

And now he was here, trudging through the crowds of noises and smells. Bringing back so many memories. Not all of them good.

He could go to the range, trick the tricksters. Could rob them dry as they did to unsuspecting marks all day but what good would that do? He could go on one of the rides but he knew it wouldn't thrill him like it used to. He would be bored by the second one and pissed off by the third.

He had just decided to just leg it back to the jet when the crowd thinned a little and he spotted a little brunette ensconsed on one of the park benches trying to eat a candy floss with one arm since the other was in a sling.

He didn't know why he did what he did. Barton wasn't the most social of fellows. Infact it was a well known fact that the only persons shit Barton took was Coulson's. Not even the Director was exempt from his snark. But for some reason, this tiny woman, a little helpless but not weak, called out to him.

He approached her bench and asked.

"You want some help with that?"

She looked up and Clint lost himself for a second. Those brown eyes were full of a pain that he was too familiar with. But they were also beautiful. So much so that the instinct to protect her flared in him. Violently.

* * *

"You need any help with that?"

Came a deep voice from beside her. Turning from her struggle she was met with bright blue eyes. He was shorter than most but not by much. The way he held himself was assured but not overly confident. He seemed tense but his offer seemed genuine. And she actually did need help.

"I... uh if you wouldn't mind," at the same time wondering if he was going to feed the floss to her? That would be weird.

"May I?" he asked politely pointing at the seat next to her.

Nodding she scooted a little so he could sit.

"Here," he offered. "l can hold the stick for you and you can use your free hand to eat," he said taking the floss gently from her. "I'm Clint by the way."

Clint, that was a nice name. "Thanks," she said as she plucked some floss from the stick, it melted in her mouth bringing back fond memories of her childhood. Belatedly remembering that the man had introduced himself she hurried to return the courtesy. "I'm Laura."

"It's nice to meet you, Laura." he replied and she smiled, it seemed like in the last twenty four hours her face had forgotten how to do that.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and Laura jumped in panic jostling her arm and moaning as she flashed back. Dead gray eyes. Metal arm. Gun in hand. Her breath started stuttering coming out in gasps as she trembled the pain in her shoulder a sharp knife twisting.

"Laura! Laura! Listen to me. Listen. Breath okay. It was just the gun at the range Laura! Breath in. Slowly. Now let it out. Breathe with me Laura. Come on. No one's gong to hurt you."

It was slowly, that her vision came into focus and she saw those bright blue eyes steady on hers as he breathed with her and calmed her heart down.

"There you go," encouraged Clint as she finally got her breathing under control. "You're okay." Finally her surroundings came into focus and she saw that Clint was on his knees in front of her his hand in hers eyes wide, open and trusting. The floss was thrown aside as he talked her down

"Oh god!" she gasped. "Oh god." as tears sprang in her eyes. She had broken down in front of complete stranger.

"Hey," said Clint. This time stern. "You didn't do anything wrong. Clearly you've been through a lot. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to the best of us."

Somehow his words calmed her.

"Shame about the candy though," he muttered looking at the dust covered treat. "I'll buy you another one if you'd like?"

Laura didn't think she could eat anything anytime soon, Infact she might vomit if she tried.

"N-no thanks," she said trying to get her trembling under control and failing until Clint took her clammy hand back in his. His trusting eyes tracked hers.

"I..."

"You were shot," he said startling her. "High calibre bullet, looks like," he said staring at her bandaged arm. "Missed bone though, still fresh. A day old? Maybe two?"

Despite all she quirked an eyebrow. "You can tell all that just by looking at my bandaged arm?"

Clint smiled, it was a beautiful thing. "Among other things," he admitted.

For some reason she started blurting out the entire story to him at that point.

Ten minutes later Clint had his elbows on knees, his hands clasped at he stared off into the distance.

"So he had a metal arm and a muzzle? And he choked out this VIP then came after you. But didn't kill you?"

He sounded puzzled but completely at home talking about an assassin trying to kill her.

"Yeah, after I pulled the alarm and he heard people coming, he could have done it. Before someone saw even, but he didn't. He turned around and walked back into the VIP room, and when we looked in five minutes later, he was gone."

Clint nodded for a moment before sitting back up. He looked up and glanced left then right and stiffened before slowly slumping back and putting an arm around her shoulders. She thought he was being awfully familiar till he leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"There are two men to your right and one behind us," he said and she froze eyes wide with terror as she understood what he was saying.

"Laura, I need you to trust me, okay." he said slowly and deliberately but still whispering. She nodded as a tear slid down her cheek.

"I work for an agency known as SHIELD. I'm an operative going by the call sign Hawkeye and if at any point we get separated you call this number," and he handed her a card. "And tell him that Barton said help."

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked him trembling once again.

Clints eyes hardened as he locked eyes on hers. "Nothing if I have anything to say about it."

* * *

Barton knew he was in trouble as soon as the first tear fell from her eye. It was always the complicated ones wasn't it? He asked himself as he spied the team sent for her. They weren't surveillance, in fact judging by their armor they looked like Strike level operatives. The search and destroy type, only the destroy designation was this slip of a girl who had just been in the wrong place.

Well he was in, wasn't he?

"Laura, you can see the shooting range from here?" he asked as the crowd around them thinned leaving only them and their stalkers around in the dimly lit area. Laura to her credit nodded despite being scared out of her mind. "Okay, tap my arm, how many shooters in the range?" he felt three taps. "Can you count down the moment they shoot on my arm." another tap then... Tap... Tap...and...Tap.

His hand flashed and he turned once twice and thrice as the bang of old gunpowder rifles echoed around the area. Three bodies slumped to the ground as Barton quickly holstered his gun and stood up. Taking her hand in his he got her to stand up with him.

"Come on, we've got to go." he could see in her eyes now it was dawning exactly what he had done. Thankfully she didn't freeze and stood up.

They passed a pair of legs lying prone on the ground paying them no mind and racing to the parking lot.

"Get in," he ordered unlocking his black SUV and climbing in. She still followed and he closed and locked the door before starting the engine and peeling out from the lot.

"You... you killed those people, back there." Laura finally gasped out her shock wearing off slightly.

"Yes," he said shortly. It was always the complicated ones.

"But they could have been innocent!" she said her voice steadily rising.

"They weren't," he replied turning a corner at high speed. "They were trained professional killers for whom you would be just a mark on a page somewhere in their file."

"How do you know that?!" she all but screamed.

"Because they're just like me," he said his voice quiet. Silence greeted that statement. "Only I work for the good guys. SHIELD doesn't order hits on a civilian population."

"W-where are you taking me?" she asked a slight tremble in her voice.

"I'm not going to hurt you Laura. I promise." he said even knowing that she wouldn't believe him. "I'm taking you to a safe house. My ride arrives tomorrow morning, then I'll take you to SHIELD, they can keep you safe."

"But..." she paused then powered on. "I have a life here, a job. I can't just..."

Clint cut her off. "Laura," he said, this time very gently. "You won't be able to go back to that life. That's why he let you go. He knew that if he killed you, there would be questions but once you've given your statement? They could take you and anyone you told out silently and walk away."

He stopped at a traffic light and held out his hand. "Your phone," he asked shortly. When she hesitated he sighed. "They can track you within a 100 yard radius with that thing. We need to get rid of it.

Reluctantly she handed her phone over and he tossed it out on the street and drove off taking his own phone out.

He dialed a number and waited. When no one answered he hung up sighing. "Coulson's not picking up. I'll try again when we get to the house."

She didn't say anything and she didn't need to. Her life was turning upside down and he was causing it. He wasn't the cause of it but he knew she wouldn't see it that way. It's always the complicated ones.

Ten minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a well to do apartment complex and rode the elevator up to the sixteenth floor. He let her in to his apartment and locked the six locks and set up the security cameras to monitor everything.

Laura was standing clutching her sides as she looked around the large living area. Taking pity on her he approached but didn't touch her. He knew now that his touch would be tainted with murder for her.

"Take that bedroom," he said pointing at the far corner room. "It has no windows and I'll watch the door." Knowing it would help with her PTSD. She floundered for a bit before marching into her room and closing the door.

Meanwhile Clint went hunting. He pulled each and every nook and cranny apart to pull out his entire arsenal and started to put together his weapon. The bow he stashed here wasn't his best one but it would do for now.

He was just putting together his sniper scope when Laura walked in to the room wearing his boxers and one of his shirts. He was almost knocked off his feet as she padded into the room in his clothes and sat in front of him. Of course she wouldn't have any of her own clothes here. It must have been torture putting on the shirt with one hand.

He shifted slightly to adjust himself before looking at her, putting down the scope.

"I wanted to say thank you."

Clint snorted. "For what? For ruining your life?"

Laura smiled. "For saving it."

Clint blinked and he looked down at the scope. "I..." he sighed. "I'm sorry, Laura. I wish this wasn't how it had to be but..."

A hand fell on top of his and she gently pried his fingers from the scope.

"I may not know anything about spies and assassins but you're the only one who didn't look at me like I was crazy when I told my story."

He shook his head. "That man? The one with the metal arm? He's a ghost story in the spy world. He's called the Winter Soldier, he's been attributed to over a dozen covert ops over the last decade alone. And uptil now only you have managed to get only more than a glimpse of the man."

He squeezed her hand back and smiled at her as she bit her lip remembering her encounter with the Soldier.

"His eyes were dead. There was nothing behind them. No sign of life. Nothing."

All he could do was rub his thumb over her knuckles and give his silent support. Then his phone rang startling them both. He looked at the ID and sighed.

"That's one of my contacts," he explained picking up the phone. "I've got to take this," to which Laura just nodded.

Accepting the call he put it to his ear. "Sitwell?"

_"Barton? Coulson's out at the moment, told me to call you?"_

"Yeah, listen I need a witness protection detail. You heard about the Boston job. At the hospital?"

_"Heard about it? Yeah, heard it was a respirator malfunction of something..."_

"It was a job and I've got a witness at my safe house. She's being targeted. I took down three agents at the Park Carnival tonight but there might be more sent for her."

_"Barton you need to bring her in."_

"That's the plan, Sitwell. I'll catch my ride tomorrow morning then you can take it from there."

_"Of course. Tomorrow morning? Alright Barton. I'll let Coulson know."_

The line cut off.

Clint smiled at a tired looking Laura and put down the phone.

"You're hungry? We can't order in but I make a mean mac n cheese. Also considering that's all I have in this dump, it's all I can offer."

Laura smiled and nodded. "Mac n cheese is fine Clint, thanks."

"No problem."

Dinner was quiet. He had to help her couple of times because of her arm but Mac n Cheese didn't really require any dexterity so it was relatively easy. The problems started at night.

* * *

She was terrified to go to sleep. She knew if she did then she would see him in her nightmares and she wasn't ready for it. Exhaustion, however, had its own plans.

She walked in the screened area and her tray fell from her hands, it was all the same, the metal arm the dead eyes, the muzzle. But this time the man on the bed was not the patient. Those bright blue eyes, dark blonde hair, that kind smile, his eyes closed as Clints last breath left his body and she screamed.

"Laura! Laura! Wake up Laura! It's just a dream!"

She woke up violently her arms flying and she sat up in her bed her scream tearing out of her lungs tears streaming down her face. And there he was. Clint sitting on her bed. She couldn't help it, she launched herself at him ignoring the pain in her shoulder and buried her face in his neck and broke down.

She felt his hand rub her back, up and down. Smooth, calm, collected as her body shook with sobs.

"It's okay, just a dream. Shh," he whispered gently.

"I-it was you!" she choked out and felt him freeze.

"Me as the Soldier?" he asked tense.

She shook her head her hair brushing his stubble. "O-on the bed! And he was choking you... a-and you died!"

It took a moment before his hand started it's motion on her back once more, soothing. "It's alright. I'm right here, Laura. I'm here."

Another bout of tears. God she was turning into a wet rag. A clingy wet rag. She pulled back hoping to apologise only to gasp at the spot of red on his white undershirt.

Clint looked down confused then his eyes widened as he saw the source of the blood. Only then did she register the pain. He shoulder had been jostled one too many times and it looked like she had pulled her stitches.

"Hold on," said Clint, surprisingly calm. "I'll get the med kit."

The med kit looked like a walking pharmacy as Clint laid the huge case on her bed and opened it to ruffle through looking for the appropriate supplies.

"You got your pain meds?"

She shook her head. "I took one before leaving for the Carny but I left my pills at the apartment." The apartment that she would probably never see again.

"Well I've got Codeine, Tremadol, Demerol, Percocet," he muttered from behind the lid before peeking up with a cheeky grin. "And Vicodin, just for kicks." She couldn't help but share his grin even through the pain.

"Demerol is fine, that's what I was prescribed by the doctor."

"Demerol it is," agreed Clint closing the lid and setting the case aside before sitting next to her with a box of gauze, bandages, scissors and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He hesitated. "I'm gonna need to take the shirt off." He didn't blush but she did, still she went to unbutton only for him to stop her. "I'll do it." And she let him.

Slowly button by button he revealed her skin. Finally pushing one sleeve down only to stop.

"I can't sleep with a bra on," she ventured only to receive a nod even as she watched his eyes darken. Laura was sure her blush was spreading. To Clint's credit he only peeked once or twice, professionally removing her bandage and cleaning her wound. Was it wrong for her to want him to look a bit more? That blush wasn't going away any time soon.

"You didn't pull any stitches, which is good cause I suck at stitching up bullet wounds," his voice was a touch deeper and she could feel the tension in the room. "This is gonna sting," he warned before dabbing her wound with alcohol soaked cotton wool." It did sting but she managed to keep her scream in.

Then he was wrapping up her shoulder and securing the bandages and pulling back up her shirt and giving her a glass of water and she didn't want him to leave. As she drank down her pills he started packing up, not meeting her eyes and going to get up when her hand snaked out and caught his wrist.

Their eyes met and she only had time to put her glass down on the bedside table before they were too close. So close. He was careful with her but she wanted more and soon he gave in.

* * *

Laura's eyes opened and she realised that her arm was stiff, it was probably time for her meds. Of course last night's activities really wouldn't be a recommendation for a person suffering from a gunshot wound.

Speaking of last nights activities she was pleasantly surprised to feel Clint's arm across her stomach, her lying on her good side with him spooning from behind. It was only as she felt him squeeze her waist that she realised something was up. Slowly she turned to see his eyes alert and scanning.

"Clint?" she asked knowing she wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"There's only one vantage point that had a good view of my safe house and I settled a family of Robins to perch there. They're territorial, so they won't leave. By this time they should be singing. They're not."

His voice was sharp and tense and didn't bode well. It actually scared her a little, even if he was talking about song birds. Seeing this he caught her eyes and smiled grimly before capturing her lips in a hot sweet morning kiss.

"Stay here, get dressed and ready to leave in ten minutes. If I'm not back in ten, you make that call."

He was out of bed and down the hall in record time pulling on his clothes efficiently as he walked away.

Laura paused for a second before bolting. Dressing as quick as she could, pulling on her jeans from yesterday but claiming one more of Clints shirt as her top she hurried to the living area only to blink in surprise at the bow in his hand.

He was dressed in dark purple combat gear that was so dark it looked black. He had a quiver of maybe twenty arrows strapped to his back and a second quiver clipped on his side. Some sort of ear and eye gadget was the final part of his bizzare ensemble.

It was a very intimidating look. When she padded into the room her heart racing, he looked up and snatched a handgun off the table, checking its magazine and loading a bullet in the chamber as he walked over to her.

"You now how to shoot?" she shook her head, no. He nodded, probably expecting that. "it's fairly simple, turn off the safety, point the gun at the thing you want dead and pull the trigger." she couldn't believe he was joking at a time like this.

Handing her the gun Clint pulled her close and kissed her one last time. "Remember ten minutes and you make that call." and he ran up to the far window and jumped out of it!

She ran as fast as she could to the window and looked for him only to see him somehow shoot a grappling hook from his bow and and swing to the top of the far left building. As he landed she shook her head and wondered; how the hell was this her life now?

Hurrying back to her room gun in hand, Laura quickly took her pain meds and looked for Clint's phone, which was lying on the floor next to her discarded underwear. Snatching it up she hurried into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat even as the Demerol kicked in. She aimed the gun at the door and waited keeping an eye on the time.

* * *

Barton landed softly on the far left building that shadowed his safehouse apartment. He had traversed this area a thousand times, as he did all of his safe houses. He knew every place from which he could launch an attack and he knew all the places he could use to escape but right now escape was the last thing on his mind.

From his height he had a birds eye view of the entire block and his eye tech focused highlighting heat signatures even as he spotted them. Four up top, two at the Robins Nest, a car parked in the alley overlooking the entrance to his building.

Turning the dial on his bow he selected a surveillance head and nocked an arrow. Launching it over the Robins Nest goons heads he tapped his ear piece and their conversation floated to him.

_"We've got all entrances covered and two units are moving in to breach the apartment. ETA three minutes."_

_"We've got orders to leave the Hawk alone, but the girl doesn't leave the building alive."_

Barton's eye narrowed. Why would a group that commanded the Winter Soldier want _him_ alive? It was fleeting thought, one he disregarded because they wanted Laura dead and that was enough for him to go on the offensive.

Lightning fast he aimed and launched two arrows at the two goons at the Nest and turned without waiting to see if they got hit aiming for the one perched at the opposite building terrace watching the back entrance to his building. This one got the lethal electric arrowhead making sure that he didn't fall to the ground and give him away.

Next was the one on his roof infiltrating from the top. He got two arrows in the back and Barton was flying through the air again landing next to his kill and pulling the arrows from him. Wiping them down he nocked one and put the other back in his quiver and ran inside. Jumping over stairwells he raced for his floor only to realise he wouldn't make it in time.

Jumping forward he launched a grapple arrow in the roof of the stair well and dropped. The cable caught him half way down and he rappelled the last two floors and cut the wire grabbing the rail and launching himself into the corridor.

His door was already breached as he came around the corner spotting the last goon moving into the apartment. He didn't stop launcing his nocked arrow straight through the side of his head and jumped over him to enter the room. The last goon was just heading for Laura's room when he heard his partner fall and turned to find a faceful of Barton.

Barton didn't have time to nock an arrow he just launched a knee straight into he assholes gut making him double over. The guy though was no slouch and a lot bigger than him so he managed to get a hit in as both operatives went for it.

Barton launched a quick series of punches and kicks trying to disable the larger opponent only for him to block the last punch to the head and launch one of his own that clipped him on his temple making him see stars.

He heard a _shling_ of metal on metal and saw the glint of the knife before he was on the defensive now trying not to get sliced in half. He dodged one slash, blocked another but the third stab went straight for his head and it was all Clint could do to block him the tip of the knife grazing his forehead as he used all his strength to keep the knife away.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound of the gun going off in rapid succession paused their struggle, for a second Barton thought that a third good had come from behind them but no. The brute in front of him slowly went limp and started falling. Thinking quickly Barton got out of the way as he fell straight on his face. On his back were three closely grouped gunshot wounds and standing in the doorway to her room stood a shell shocked Laura shaking from head to toe, the gun he had given her wobbling in her hand.

Moving quickly he took the gun from her as she fell to her knees. Barton followed her down as tears fell from her eyes.

"Hey. Hey, Laura." he hugged her to his chest. "You're safe. You did the right thing. He was going to kill you Laura. That's why he was here. You did good."

Anguished brown eyes met his troubled blue ones. "I'm a murderer."

"No you're not, Laura," he replied firmly taking her chin in his hand. His bloodied hand. "you're so many things, you're short, you're cute, you're so beautiful and amazing but you are _not_ a killer. Laura you saved my life, he was going to kill me and then come for you. He's the monster here, not you."

Slowly the agony of taking another life receded from her eyes, not completely but enough that she could think clearly.

"Now I need you to listen," said Barton hoping her head was clear enough for this. "There are still goons outside, the back alley is clear but we still need to move fast before more guys show up okay, hun?"

Laura nodded perhaps a little too fast but allowed him to lift her back up to her feet. Grabbing his go bag from his room Barton collapsed his bow and slung it on his back before getting out his side arm and reloading Laura's gun, handed it back to her. She looked like he was handing her a live tarantula but took it nonetheless and the two moved out of the apartment.

* * *

Laura stopped over the man lying in the doorway of Clint's safe house, he had an arrow sticking out of the side of his head. She looked at him for a moment then back at Clint who was avoiding her eyes. She had heard what he said and what he didn't. 'He's the monster, not you' he also meant 'I'm the monster, not you'

Since she had met Clint she had seen him kill five people, she presumed that number was more since there were more people probably scouting the apartment. But why had he killed them? Because they were going to kill her. Because she saw something she shouldn't have seen. As she looked down at that man lying there the arrow sticking out from his head her heart hardened.

She had just taken a life, the last of her innocence was gone. Her grip on the gun tightened and she squared her shoulders. She didn't want to kill but if these people thought they could hunt her down like some rabid dog and put her down then they were mistaken.

Not sparing her would be killers another glance she followed Clint down the corridors and down five flights of stairs before they got out at the back alley of the building.

"Come on," Clint urged as she hurried over. "I've got a ride locked in storage two blocks down this way."

The ride turned out to be a motorcycle, which Laura stared at for a moment.

"It's a Ducati Monster early model. I splurged my last paycheck on it. It should make our getaway pretty fast."

Laura gaped at him. "Clint I can only use one hand," she said raising her working arm in example. To which he just smiled, seriously were all spies this blasé about danger?

"I've got it figured out," and he produced a length of belt strap and got on the bike. "Come on, climb on behind me and I'll tie the strap around us."

Rolling her eyss at this absurdity she nevertheless climbed on and clutched his waist tightly as he tied and tightened the strap around them securely and kicked the engine to life.

Two minutes later they were tearing down the street towards presumably where a more comfortable ride was waiting for them. As she looked back at the building their left behind she really hoped that this would be the end of her troubles.

* * *

The ride to the airport was relatively safe, Barton was sure Laura would say that he was going to too fast, but thankfully it looked like he had managed to leave all the goons behind.

Arriving at the airport runway, the Quinjet was prepped and ready and a surprise was waiting for him as he rode his bike up the ramp.

"Coulson?" he asked surprised.

"Agent Barton," he greeted the archer formally as he unstrapped Laura from himself. "And you must be Miss Miller?"

Laura nodded and shook his hand. "It's Laura, Phil."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Barton asked as he dismounted the bike.

"Not really," she answered. "But as soon as you left Phil called your phone and managed to calm me down from hyperventilating. He told me he was coming to pick you up and I told him what was happening.

He turned to her in concern which she waved off as Coulson smiled.

"Looks like you've had a busy break Agent Barton."

Barton snorted and moved to the pilot seat. "Get Laura strapped in will you, the sooner we're in the air the better.

Engaging auto pilot on the coordinates Coulson had handed him he left the pilot seat to talk to Laura. She was sitting next to the handler and laughing at something he was showing her on a tablet.

She beamed at him when he came out of the cockpit.

"Hey Clint, Phil just showed me the time you asked to spar with Agent Hill."

He scowled at Coulson, really the embarrassing moments were being shared already?

"I'll have you know," he said taking a seat next to her. "That I won that fight."

Coulson laughed. "Yeah by cheating, what was it? Twenty two different points of impact? That bruising cleared up?"

Barton huffed but then laughed. It was good seeing Laura at least let go. Laugh for the first time since he saw her.

"Coulson found a place where you can lay low for a while."

Laura nodded slowly and met his eyes. "Will you come visit?"

Barton hesitated. "If you want me to?"

At this Coulson loudly excused himself to check on their trajectory and they were left alone.

Laura closed the gap between them placing a chaste kiss on his lips which he couldn't help but return.

"I want you to," she replied to his question.

He sighed and tuned a little to stare at the passing clouds, if he looked at her too long he might never want to leave.

"Laura, you saw what I did to those men, you saw what I do. I..."

"You did it to protect me," she said firmly. "You're not the monster, they are. Remember? And what you do, helps protect the rest of the world."

Barton knew that she was sugar coating what he did, he was a killer plain and simple, but even then he couldn't help but want Laura to see him as something more than that.

"I'll come visit," he promised. And her smile was back.

"You better," she warned. "Oh by the way did you know you're bleeding?"

Barton startled. "What?"

She swiped a finger on his forehead and came away with blood. The knife must have nicked him and he hadn't noticed. Trying to get up to check it out Laura caught her wrist in a replay of last night and smiled coyly. She turned her head indicating the supply box open on the table in front of them.

"Sit down," she whispered grabbing the bottle of antiseptic. "Time for me to play nurse." Barton did as she asked sitting back down and letting her take care of him.

* * *

Two Weeks Later. Farmhouse.

The knock on the door startled her. She hadn't been called about anyone coming to check on her and the closet settlement was a mile away, so she opened the far draw of her kitchen counter and pulled out the M9 Glock Clint had given her and crept into the lounge.

Another knock.

And she crouched down making sure she wasn't visible through the windows and slowly advanced on the door. Opening the door before another knock could come she pointed the Glock at a surprised Clint with a steady aim.

He raised his hands in a surrender a bag in his left and a bouquet in the right.

"Uh... Honey, I'm home," he ventured and Laura dropped her gun arm and launched herself at him.

"Clint! You asshole. Why didn't you call ahead? Nearly gave me a heart attack!" All this time she was still choking the life out of him in a bear hug.

"I wanted to surprise you," he admitted and when she looked up at him he grinned and said. "I've got the next three weeks off." Her heart leapt up at that and shared his smile as he leaned down to kiss her upturned lips.

When they pulled apart Clint let got of the bag and presented her the flowers. He had thankfully shied away from the stereotypical red roses and offered a range of blossoms that tantalized her senses as she raised it to her nose to take a sniff.

"So you're not allergic," he said smugly. "Good to know." He picked up the bag and carried it into the farmhouse. "Here," he said handing her the duffel.

Laura looked confused at the offering and raised an eyebrow in question. "Well when Coulson gave me my time off I did a round trip to Boston before heading back here." Now her eyes widened. "I stopped by your apartment got you somethings that you might have missed from home."

She ripped open the bag and grinned when she found her books and movie sets along with some of her best clothes and at the bottom there was her family photos and albums, her last memories of her long lost family.

Laura looked up at Clint with bright eyes and gave him a deep kiss showing him how much she appreciated the thoughtful gesture. With a grin she led him up the stairs to start enjoying the first of the three weeks of freedom.

* * *

**_So there you go. I'll leave it there for now unless something else happens and I think to add it here. Review if you like it. Til next time!_**


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